


He Called His Cat The Wrong Eye Color, But The Cat Didn't Care

by Anonymous



Series: Bangs and Thangs [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Cats, Cats, Gen, Shiro (Voltron) Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-26
Updated: 2018-06-26
Packaged: 2019-05-28 23:18:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15059996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: It had been a year after the end of the invasion and war, when Shiro found the small cat laying in the alleyway. What happened next would change his life in unexpected ways and reveal surprising truths to the man called Earth's Champion.





	He Called His Cat The Wrong Eye Color, But The Cat Didn't Care

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [voltron_sheith_kink_meme](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/voltron_sheith_kink_meme) collection. 



> __  
> **Prompt:**  
>   
> 
> _Shiro finds a tiny stray black cat on the street one day and (being a softy and a cat person) takes it in. It's sick and malnourished and he pours all his love into healing it up until one day he comes back from work and finds a young man sitting on his couch waiting for him._
> 
>  
> 
> _"Hello, I'm your cat. My name is Keith."_
> 
>  
> 
> _(the reason why Keith is a cat is up to you!! The fluffier the better ^u^ )_
> 
>  
> 
> For information on the real-life project mentioned in this fanfic, check out [The Kitty Convict Project](https://explodingkittens.com/kittyconvict/).
> 
> Enjoy, fellow nonny.

It had been a year after the end of the invasion and war, when Shiro found the small cat laying in the alleyway.

He hadn’t been expecting to adopt a cat, much less meet one that day. It had been a cold night, dropping to near-freezing temperatures, and Shiro had just finished a night of nursing several strong drinks. However, as he passed by the bar’s back porch, he heard the most pitiful, high-pitched meow echo from behind a trashcan.

Shiro couldn’t help it. He slowly wobbled down onto his knees, using his arm to move the can. Upon seeing just what was behind it, he felt his heart break.

“Oh…” The poor thing was almost skin and bones, with most of its black fur practically fallen off from malnutrition. It unsuccessfully tried to back away from him, before collapsing from being too weak, its dim pupils in yellow eyes staring back at him. “You poor thing…don’t be scared. I won’t hurt you.”

He couldn’t help himself. Within five minutes, Shiro had taken his coat off and had wrapped it around the shivering and wet little ball. He was still a bit woozy from his night of drinking; thankfully, he managed to make it to his apartment within the half hour, and without falling on his face. By that time, he was completely drenched.

“Shhh, it’s ok.” He could feel the little kitten tense at the sight of his massive apartment building, and then later inside his rooms. It was true, the building had been built by the invaders, and no amount of dressing up on his part could erase all of the alien features in his own sublet. Still, he did his best to soothe the poor thing. It was so tiny, so vulnerable, and so very scared. “You’re safe. I promise. I’ll take care of you now.”

He stripped out of his own wet clothing, tossing it to the side and changing into warmer night clothes. Soon enough, he had the shivering cat in his arm again, and was wiping it and himself with a towel. Warmth seemed to calm the kitten down, at least a little.

“There we go.” The cat let out a pitiful meow as Shiro spoke. “I’ll get you something to eat and drink, too. How does some milk sound right now?”

Another, weak meow, and Shiro was gently cradling him towards the kitchen. He had gotten pretty deft with having one arm with time, and so was able to scoop his milk carton and a saucer onto the counter while holding his guest in the nook of his arm. One he was finished pouring the milk, he brought the baby (oh, he was already growing attached to it…) to the bowl, where – after several long, tense moments, the kitten began to weakly dip its head into the bowl and lick up some of the milk.

“There we go.” Shiro smiled as he took out another bowl, filling it with water, which the kitten seemed to gravitate more towards. “Hey, I’m going to take care of you, ok? Good baby.”

He’d probably have to take him to the vet. For now, however, this would at least help the kitten to pull through the night. He gently rubbed its back once it finished drinking what little it could, until it finally fell asleep. Soon enough, he was in his bed, cradling the baby in his arm, and falling asleep.

  

* * *

 

He was glad that the Galaxy Garrison had a veterinary ward. They didn’t, originally, not before the invasion. After the activation of the Imperium EMP, however, the remaining alien species left behind in the solar system – and the variety of animals that accompanied them – needed study, cataloging, and most importantly, medical aid. In comparison to some of the creatures that the doctors had to treat, a small kitten was hardly complicated.

“Oh, another one?” The vet cooed at the kitten, who simply tensed and tried to weakly nip at her fingers. “This is the twelfth cat I’ve seen this morning.”

“So I saw.” Shiro brought his hand up to his neck. “You been busy with them, then?”

“Ever since the Imperium EMP was activated. Reports of ownerless and feral cats have been popping up like mushrooms.” The vet opened the kitten’s mouth, causing it to thrash pitifully as she dropped something liquid into its mouth. “Best we can tell, their owners were killed or relocated during the occupation, so we’ve likely got millions of unaccounted pets. Ah—no fleas, no sign of rabies, distemper or mange. Teeth are all there with no signs of cavities, good. Hold him, please.”

“Him?” Shiro looked over and saw the vet taking out a thermometer and bringing towards the kitten’s back end. “Oh, _oh_ geez, hang on. Hey, hey, it’ll be ok.”

The scared yowl that ensued made Shiro want to take the kitten away from the vet and run off. As it was, the cat was shaking after the vet finished taking his temperature; he was downright crying after his shots were administered.

“There we go. All done.” The vet rubbed the kitten’s head and was promptly rewarded with a grumpy swipe to her fingers. “Your little buddy here is suffering from malnutrition, though, so I’m going to prescribe a special multi-vitamin supplement that you can add to his meals. He’s a few weeks old, far as I can tell, so he’s a bit old for bottle-feeding. You’ll want to start with wet food, and then go to dry if you wish as he gets stronger and gains some more weight. I’m also going to recommend you bring him back in a month so we can monitor his progress. If he’s doing well then, we can stop the supplements. It should also help him grow back some of his fur.”

“Thank you.” Shiro smiled as he rubbed the kitten’s head. He didn’t even care that the kitten was nipping his hand with what could only be displeasure at the ordeal the kitten just went through. “I’ll make sure he gets all the care he needs.”

“Of course.” The vet went to open the door to let him out as he cradled the kitten in his arm. “By the way…any word on that new arm you’re supposed to get, captain?”

Shiro stopped at this. Almost instinctively he held the kitten closer to his chest as the mention of his arm threatened to bring back worrisome, vivid memories.

“No.” He shook his head as he began to leave. “Not yet. I’ll see you later, ok?”

 

* * *

 

That night he couldn’t hold the memories back, and when he slept, he found himself back in the Arena. He’d been captured on Kerberos, alongside his crew, but instead of bringing him to the heart of the Galra Empire, the Galra Empire merely came to Earth, enslaving it. They said they were only looking for something, but it was a lie. They built giant monoliths and ziggurats and military bases for their people, while constructing prisons and mines and graveyards for their new human slaves. Only the strongest survived, and Shiro had certainly been strong despite everything.

Maybe a little too strong. They’d made him a gladiator. They called him Earth’s Champion. They forced him to fight other alien prisoners, told him if he died, one million humans would be killed for his failure. They tore him apart, experimented on him, then put him back together, made him more durable and strong for their emperor's amusement. Now, he was back there, as if he’d never left the massive coliseum, as if the humans never rebelled and created the weapon that would wipe out the Galra for good. He faced a massive, ten-armed beast, its tongue shifting into a knife-like tip, as the crowd of millions roared with approval at the unfair fight. He kept trying to hit his opponent, but it seemed to dodge him faster than he could move. Soon enough, it had driven its tongue into his torso. With a scream, pain shot up and down through his body, and as he fell—

His eyes shot open as he felt the weight on his stomach, his heart shooting up to his mouth. Instantly, his head was craning upwards, and his remaining arm was out and ready to fight. He was met with silence save for the rumbling lump resting on his stomach, its tail twitching as it breathed in and out.

 _Calm down,_ he commanded himself. Slowly, forcefully, he brought his arm down, and tried to slow his breathing. _Just a dream. It was just a dream. The Galra are gone, and they’ll never come back._

Unable to fully relax, his hand instead found itself resting on the kittens back. At the touch, the kitten’s rumbling seemed to increase, and slowly, its dim eyes opened. After a moment, it weakly wriggled upwards from beneath his grasp and nestled instead against his chest, closing its eyes once more.

Shiro’s heart melted beneath the furry mass as it fell back asleep, and soon the warmth and vibrations spread to the rest of his body. Within the hour he was back asleep, with no dreams plaguing him for the rest of the night.

 

* * *

 

The night turned into day, and when Shiro woke up, the kitten woke up with a meow. With a yawn, Shiro scooped the baby cat up and brought him to the kitchen; breakfast was going to be salmon and tuna wet food with a shot of medicine.

“Since I'm in this for the long haul with you, I ought to give you a name, huh, baby?” Shiro mused as the kitten – his kitten – began to eat what chunks it could. “I don’t want to just call you cat or kitten. I mean, I still might, but…”

The cat looked up at him, and wow he looked a little annoyed. Shiro couldn’t help but chuckle because it was nevertheless way too cute to look at, especially with all the food smeared all over his face.

“Ok, ok. How about…” He looked over the kitten, and the kitten blinked back at him. Though its eyes were hazy from its condition, he could see the smallest hint of violet specks glinting within the center its pupil. It was unusual, and perhaps it was a trick of the light. It was also, for the second he saw it, beautiful. “Oh, I know. Hmm. Hang on.”

Out came his phone, and his fingers quickly flew. Spooky? Sable? No. He was thinking a different color.

“Pourpre. It means purple in French, like your eyes.” The kitten let out a high, chirping meow as Shiro said the word. “How does that sound?”

The kitten still looked unimpressed.

“I can call you Pourry for short.” Shiro smiled as he put the phone down and rubbed the kitten’s chin. “Besides, I know from last night you love to pourrr.”

The kitten’s eyes narrowed. If Shiro didn’t know better, he’d think Pourpre was judging him for that awful pun.

“Ok, sorry. I don’t do that again.” Shiro outright laughed; that expression was just too cute. “I’m going to go to work now. You want to come?”

The meow that came in response seemed to be a yes. Soon enough Shiro was on his way, his Pourry and his work bag both safely in the crook of his arm.

 

* * *

 

After that, Shiro and Pourry seemed to settle into a routine. Pourry was surprisingly flexible when it came to Shiro handling him and holding him, or really doing anything with him. Every day he would come to work with Shiro, looking out the window and meowing at every passerby and bird he saw. Every night he would snuggle against Shiro’s chest and sleep while Shiro watched the news about the invasion aftermath. It was all about people being found and reunited from the prison camps, about another cat colony found amid the feral cat epidemic, and the weather being hot and dry around central Arizona. Pourry seemed warmed up fast to his giant human, which made Shiro very glad that he brought the kitten in. There was also the bonus that having Pourry around helped Shiro to relax at night; where before he would constantly have nightmares, now, the soothing, rhythmic breath of his kitten lulled him into consistent nights of pleasant, dreamless sleep.

Within a week, Shiro had also managed to get Pourry his special Kitty Convict collar with a bell. He wasn’t expecting his kitten to run off, but there was always the possibility he could get lost, and at least the collar had information on how to return his kitten home. Pourry, for his part, seemed unimpressed by the neon orange abomination that Shiro placed around his neck, but didn’t go out of his way to try and get it off.

Within two weeks, Shiro also learned that he didn’t need to waste his money on litter. One day after lunch, Pourry abruptly meowed and jumped off his desk running off into the hallway. Shiro ended up giving chase, only to find Pourry in a men’s bathroom stall, doing his business on a toilet as naturally as any adult human.

“Oh geez.” Shiro brought his hand to his forehead. “So much for the fifty-pound bag of sand I spent my money on, huh, baby?”

The weeks slowly passed, and as the weather changed, so too did Pourry. The purple Shiro swore he saw that first day indeed existed, and the dimness that encroached his eyes gradually disappeared and uncovered it all, giving him beautiful, contrasting eyes that shined whenever they saw Shiro. His fur began to grow back long, black and healthy. He also started eat much more voraciously as he got stronger, resulting in weight gain, which made Shiro cheer the morning he found that his kitten wasn’t just made of protruding bones anymore. He also found that the little belly his baby was starting to get was perfect for petting and playing with, and that Pourry was completely fine with him doing that. Only Shiro, though – everyone else was clawed, including the guys working on his prosthetic, and especially the vet when she dropped by Shiro’s office to say hi.

It was, for Shiro, a clear sign that his health was recovering nicely – though maybe a little _too_ nicely. On top of getting heavier (though not _really_ , he was still a bit underweight) Shiro noticed he was getting rapidly longer as well. When he first found Pourry that rainy night, he’d been tiny enough to fit in the palm of Shiro’s hand. After two weeks of being fed, however, Shiro began to notice that his limbs were practically stretching with each passing day, followed by his torso and tail. By the time of his follow-up with the vet at the end of the month, he was three, nearly four times his original size.

“This…” For several moments, the vet was speechless at the sight of the cat when he was brought in. “This is highly abnormal.”

“How so?”

“Last month you brought in a kitten that I estimated to be five to six weeks old.” The vet motioned to Pourry, who was purring contentedly beneath Shiro’s hand, bushy tail swishing back and forth. “If this is the same cat – which, you don’t have to convince me, I know it is – then he’s physically grown the equivalent of a nine-month span in four weeks. He’s almost an adult.”

“…Wow.” Shiro looked down at his cat, who looked at him with practiced innocence in response to the stunned churning in his stomach. Now that the vet was pointing it out, he couldn’t deny that it _was_ unusual. “Aha…yeah, that was fast, wasn't it? What did you put in that supplement, doc?”

Judging by the vet's expression as she looked at him, he could tell his attempt at a joke had fallen flat.

“I…I’m going to need to prepare some tests.” The vet turned away and quickly began to type something into her computer system. “I need to make sure we’re not dealing with some…hereinbefore unknown feline form of progeria. Is there any way you can bring him back in a few weeks? I’ll need time. If you notice any rapid signs of aging during that period, kidney problems or…”

The rest of the appointment was filled with a tense atmosphere, though Pourry didn’t seem to notice. Instead, he simply snuggled against Shiro, as if nothing at all was out of the ordinary. With a grunt, Shiro slowly picked up his now much bigger kitten and thanked the vet, promising to bring him back when the tests were ready.

All the way home, Pourry was silent, as was Shiro. Where once he was happy that he’d taken such good care of his cat, now he was worried that his time with his baby wouldn’t last. He could feel the deadening fear creep up his spine as he went through the motions that evening of feeding Pourry – no need for supplements, now. It was like the dread he felt when he went into the Arena.

“Kitten, baby.” he murmured as he felt Pourry lay on his chest that night. “Even though I’ve only had you a month, now I’m scared I’ll lose you too soon. I lost my family, my friends, my life…”

He felt himself hyperventilate, and soon tears began to fall from his eyes as the thought of his pet – his family, now, even after such a short time – dying before his eyes, and him unable to stop it, permeated his mind. Where before feeling his cat on him and watching him grow gave him some comfort and helped him sleep, now it was like a leaden weight, and he was unable to keep his eyes closed or dry for many hours. He was certain the sun was starting to rise in the sky as, at last, he felt himself passing out beneath his cat's shifting form.

 

* * *

 

The smell of burning meat was what caused Shiro’s eyes to bolt open later that evening. He bolted upright, letting out a gasp, as it brought him once more into the past, into the Arena, where at one point he was forced to fight another gladiator in a ring of fire. He had been burned and seared, but it was his opponent that had fallen into the flames, and then he was on fire and the smell—

He missed work, and someone had broken into his home.

He leaped out of his bed and threw his door open, revealing the living room and kitchen beyond. There was smoke coming from the stove, but there was nothing cooking. Instead, there was a pile of slightly stiff-looking kielbasa that he’d been saving for himself and Pourry on a plate in the center of his coffee table, the links all burned and even blackened at the edges. The plate was adorned with ketchup, with a set of his silverware and two cups of tea, all neatly set up in front of his couch.

His couch, where – sitting completely nude on one of his pillows, with a half-eaten kielbasa link sticking out their mouth – was a gangling, naked, black-haired young man, barely out of his teens.

That – and a disturbing lack of Pourry to be seen – would have been enough to cause Shiro’s brain to short circuit, before he inevitably called the police on the trespasser now in his apartment. However, Shiro found himself unable to move, his eyes wide and his mouth moving, but no sounds coming out of it, because his brain, after processing the situation, simply couldn’t handle what he was looking at.

_I know you._

“ _Keith?_ ”

It took him an eternity to force the name out of his mouth. This wasn’t possible. Keith had disappeared. Keith was missing, had likely died during the final battle, when the Imperium EMP had been activated. They only found the torn remains of his clothes, some ashes, his weapons, and little else.

Upon hearing his name, the naked interloper's head popped up. He slowly took the half-eaten kielbasa out of his mouth, and his face and eyes focused on Shiro, almost lighting up. Those lovely, purple eyes, that were just the same hue as his cat’s pupils.

Shiro felt his knees start to buckle. Either he was having a nightmare, or a psychotic break.

“Shiro.” After a long silence, Keith’s voice was rough, cracking, as if he were unused to speaking, and he slowly stood up. There were tears in his eyes. “Hey.”

This couldn’t be real. He had to wake up. This was just as bad as a nightmare. Now he was equating his cat to a dead man, and—

“…My cat.” Shiro felt his breath shorten. He was going to faint. Not real. This was all not real. It _could not be happening_. “Pourry. My kitten, _my baby_. Where is he?”

There was no verbal response. Instead, Keith slowly held up his wrist, and Shiro felt himself crumble on the inside. The bell on the neon orange Kitty Convict collar jingled as it slid down Keith’s forearm.

The next thing Shiro knew, he was stumbling, then falling backwards, first seeing door frame, then the ceiling, then black.

 

* * *

 

_Shiro. It’s me, Keith._

Shiro finally stirred as he felt a rumble on his chest, not at all unlike Pourry’s purring. However, it wasn’t the cat he’d come to care for and love – it wasn’t his kitten baby. It was a human, lithe and pale and with black hair and purple eyes. His eyes stared into Shiro’s with the same intensity he remembered from long ago, back in the days before aliens had become a normal, accepted thing on Earth. With the same determination they held when Shiro saw his memorial picture, dressed in the garb of a Garrison rebel fighting the Galra invaders. They were also brighter, healthier than he remembered.

It was _Keith_ , and it was difficult for Shiro to accept.

_I’m your cat. I’m your Pourpre, your Pourry. I’m…your baby._

He closed his eyes, letting out a deep breath.

“I’m dreaming, aren’t I?” Maybe he was. If he wasn’t he was then being unfair to Keith. “They said you died to help activate the Imperium EMP.”

“No.” Keith buried his head into Shiro’s neck, and Shiro couldn’t help but keen at the motion. “I didn’t die. I changed. We all changed.”

Shiro’s face leaned down into Keith’s, nuzzling his forehead with his cheek. It took him a moment to realize it was something he would do with Pourry. It was maddening, and the longer time went by during the night, the more unsure Shiro felt that he was dreaming, or having a mental breakdown. Yet Keith certainly _felt_ real.

“The EMP didn’t kill any of the Galra.” Shiro felt his heart turn to ice at those words, but then Keith continued. “It was originally programmed to kill everyone and anyone who had within point-zero-three-two percent Galra consanguinity. They tried to sabotage it so it wouldn’t hurt them. They caused it to malfunction, but...they still failed to prevent being affected by it.”

There had been a sudden, sharp increase in ownerless cats in the aftermath of that final battle. It had naturally never occurred to anyone that the cause of such an increase would have been alien in origin. Millions of humans had died, many who no doubt had owned pets.

“We found out that the Galra share multiple genetic mutations as some Earth species did, most of all cats. So when the EMP malfunctioned and we were hit by the wave, we all turned into cats, or…similar.”

“…’We’.”

Shiro slowly repeated that word, nevertheless. A 'we' that included Keith. But Keith was _human_.

“…I didn’t know I had Galra blood in me.” Keith’s voice became soft, almost hesitant. “Not until I met the Blade of Marmora - the Galra rebellion. Not until I saw they had the same blade as me. I joined them to save Earth, and the universe. We were ready to…fight to the death that day. I was sure I’d die. I would have been proud to—”

“No.”

Instantly, Shiro was turning over and sitting up, picking Keith up with his single arm. He grabbed Keith’s shoulder, shaking his head as much as he shook Keith.

“Don’t say that.” Shiro’s voice was hoarse. “I never thought I’d see you again as it was. I’m still not entirely sure I’m not hallucinating this. That I’ll wake up, and it’ll just be me and Pourry, and you’ll not be here because you’re not here.”

Keith’s eyes widened at this, then narrowed, his face turning red.

“Shiro. I didn’t mean to hurt you; I never meant to disappear. I promised I'd save you, but then I woke up and I wasn't even able to stand upright.” He pulled his face away from Shiro, pulling his knees into his chest. “I didn’t even know I _could_ change back until today and it was only because I so badly wanted to thank you! Not only that, but...I think I’m the only one who can change like this. Probably because I’m part human, and the EMP was designed to keep human DNA intact. But…I was too weak before. I couldn’t concentrate or think like before. All I knew was that I was a baby kitten for some reason, and…I was scared.”

He closed his eyes.

“When I got separated from the other Blades soon after…I was sure I was going to die. And then you found me during that storm, and you took care of me and helped me. I was so…happy…”

Shiro brought his hand to Keith’s face, and his thumb gently wiped away the tears streaming down the other’s cheeks.

“Kitten,” he murmured before he even realized it. Keith looked up at Shiro once more, stunned. “Finding you that night was one of the happiest moments of my life. And if this is all real, I never…ever imagined it would lead to this.”

Keith sniffed as his hand clasped Shiro’s.

“Even if I burnt your kielbasa?”

Shiro found himself snorting.

“Even if you burnt my kielbasa.” Unable to help himself, Shiro drew Keith into a hug against his chest, knees and all. “Cat or human…I don’t care. I want you to stay with me. I want to wake up and have you with me in the morning. You make me happy. Can I keep making you happy, in return?”

Keith let out another noise, much like the chirping meow that Pourry would make from time to time. He leaned into Shiro, nestling his head in between his pecs as Shiro brought his hand up to gently pet his hair. Soon, the two leaned back into bed, and drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

When Shiro woke in the morning, Keith was still there, rumbling contentedly against his chest.

 

* * *

 

Restoring Keith to personhood – at least legally – took the next several weeks. Everyone at the Garrison was naturally surprised to see him alive, and thankfully, they bought Keith’s cover about where he had been the whole time – recovering from his injuries while hiding within ruins as part of a solo guerilla campaign against a possible Galra counter attack that, of course, never happened. There were still people out there who were alive when in fact they were listed as dead or missing, and given Keith’s known impulsiveness, the idea he’d do that wasn’t out of the ordinary. As a result, it was accepted that news of Keith’s demise was merely exaggerated in the wake of everything.

After Keith got his letters affirming he was officially alive again in the eyes of Earth’s government, he was so overjoyed that, when he ran into Shiro’s arm, Shiro found himself grabbing a vibrating, furry black lump as it leaped out of a pile of clothes that fell unceremoniously to the floor. Keith didn’t have full control over his transformations, not yet; his state tended to depend on both his emotional state, and how much strength he had to change back and forth. There had been days where Shiro would find his kitten, Pourry, sitting on his bed, or chasing a sunbeam streaming through his windows. Then there was the time Shiro had a cat snuggling on him one moment in bed, and then the next came a yelp, followed by a sudden one-hundred-plus-pound increase of weight on his chest that made it difficult to breathe, forcing Keith to apologetically roll off him.

After two months, Keith woke him up early one Saturday morning.

“Hey, you mind if we go somewhere?”

“Mm, sure, but it depends on where it is.” Shiro stretched and yawned. “I have my first prosthetic fitting this afternoon.”

“I know.” Keith’s eyes sparkled. “I promise, it’s not far.”

They took a bus and a monorail to somewhere several hundred miles north, to the mile-high city. Curious, Shiro watched and followed as Keith bobbed and weaved his way through the crowds, until finally, Keith came to an run-down Italian restaurant, tucked away in a less-than-upstanding neighborhood. Shiro’s eyebrows raised almost comically as he came to a halt next to Keith.

“…You know, there _are_ closer places you can get good meatballs from, Keith.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Instead of going inside, however, Keith began going towards the side of the old brick building. “But Sal’s doesn’t have what I’m looking for.”

Soon enough Keith was holding Shiro’s hand, pulling him to the fenced back of the restaurant. There were dozens of garbage cans and a giant trash bin hovering over the two. The stench of rotten food filled the air.

“Keith…?”

Keith closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and let out a high-pitched, cat-like chirp. It almost sounded like a question that needed an answer. Silence, at first, was the response. It looked like whatever Keith had come here for was not there, and Shiro closed his eyes.

Only to pop them back open at the sound of a falling trash can. Then, the cap of another trash can slid off, and from inside it popped out a the head of what looked to be a large grey shorthair cat, its yellow, pupil less eyes glowing as it focused on Keith.

“Kolivan.”

Then another cat – an abnormally giant Sphynx - slowly loomed up behind the first, staring at Keith as well. Keith’s eyes lit up as he saw the two, and recognition seemed to dawn in the cats’ eyes as well.

“Antok…you’re still here. You’re all—”

The greyhair let out a yowl, and a stampede ensued. Several dozen cats suddenly popped out of everywhere and nowhere – out of garbage, beneath cars, off the roof of the restaurant. All of them converged on Keith, forcing him to the ground. Shiro took a step forward to help, only to find Keith laughing as the cats seemed to yammer at him.

“I’m ok, guys, I’m—oof!” The giant Sphynx butted him in the head, letting out a deep, disapproving meow. This was followed by a much smaller Sphynx with a short furry rattail sitting on Keith’s face. “Yeah, yeah, I missed you too, Antok. Mmf— _Mom_ , I’m so _sorry_ —mrrph!”

Keith’s mother. Oh. _Oh._ That was how...

After Shiro’s brain restarted itself, he knelt down to the ground and managed to take a look at the cats that now thronged around the other. Keith was right – with enough scrutiny, one could see that these weren’t normal cats. Many of the cats had a subtle lilac sheen to their fur and hair when certain light caught it, for example, and of course many had a lack of obvious pupils that could be seen beneath the abnormal glow of their sclera.

There were, however, other signs that these were not regular cats. The cat called Kolivan, for example, had spots on his head and body that were more red than black, unlike a normal shorthair. Antok and several of the furless cats had tails that looked too reptilian and prehensile for a cat to possess, and others had no tails at all when they should have. Keith’s mother, who was otherwise a light lilac with no other markings on her, had darker, almost purple lines of skin that went from her eyes and gradually thickening to her neck. Such a pattern was outright impossible for a Sphynx. Many of them also seemed to recognize Shiro, whenever they looked at him or made noises at him – it made some sense if they were Galra, as he’d been Earth’s Champion.

He went to rub one of the cats’ head – Regris, apparently.

“This—is this the Blade of Marmora?”

Every cat’s head looked up at him as the words left Shiro’s mouth, and he couldn’t help but feel like he was being scrutinized even for saying the organization’s name out loud.

“Yeah.” Keith held the cat that was his mother closely. “Hey. Can we keep them?”

Shiro sputtered at the proposition.

“I—what— _all of them_?”

“Why not?” Keith closed his eyes. “At least…I want to bring them somewhere safer than here. Somewhere they can live without worry, where they can be taken care of, like you took care of me.”

Shiro picked up the Regris cat and let it nuzzle his face, closing his eyes in thought. If what Keith had said was true, and his switch-form was due to his human heritage, then none of these Galra would be able to turn back, no matter how much care Shiro gave them. He wondered if Keith knew that, or if he was asking because of wishful thinking. All Galra had been changed by the Imperium EMP, after all, and no one even realized it. If they did, Shiro had the feeling that no one on Earth would want to change the Galra - much less Emperor Zarkon, if he was even still alive – back to normal.

“I don’t know.” His response was subdued, even as he felt Regris licking the sweat off the side of his face. “Keith, you know that what happened with you was likely unique to your genetics, right?”

“Yes.” Keith opened his eyes, looking up at Shiro. “I know. I think everyone here knows, too.”

The meows and chirps from the cats became sober at this, as Keith suddenly shrank, popping out of his clothing as a cat. Ah, Shiro felt his stomach drop as he saw Pourry sniff and nuzzle every cat that came up to him. He was too much of a softie for Keith, for cats, and for cat Keith.

“…We can try, kitten.” He cupped Pourry’s face in his hand. “Not today, but we can try.”

Pourry let out a chirp, bumping his head into Shiro’s arm. Shiro, for his part, was ruminating over how to transport several dozen cats across state lines without getting arrested for it.

 

* * *

 

The vet had been expecting Pourpre back for his tests, later that week. Instead, her office was overrun that morning with several dozen cats, with Shiro suggesting that the Garrison open up a shelter for them. A cat had knocked over her filing cabinet, and another had somehow managed to find itself on her head, batting at her glasses.

“You know, captain,” she mumbled as she glared at the other, who held Pourry in his human arm – and his new prosthetic right arm, “it’s going to take me weeks to process all of these cats, much less to convince the higher-ups to take any of them into our care. You know that, right?”

“I do.” Shiro nodded, adjusting his hold on Pourry so he was leaning on his shoulder. “And I’ll take the heat for it if anyone gets angry about it.”

“Right. You also know that if I do this for you, I’m not going to be able to test your actual cat in that time. You cat’s health could be jeopardized.”

“You don’t need to worry about that.” Shiro looked down at his baby and smiled. “I think he’ll be fine, no matter what happens. Isn’t that right, baby?”

The vet could swear that she saw the black cat wink as it meowed. Then again, her glasses had been knocked off her face by the cat on her head as that happened, so who knew what was going on anymore. With a grumble she retreated into her exam room, with nearly sixty cats following her all at once.

Once she was gone, Shiro leaned in and kissed Pourry’s forehead.

“It’s ok, Keith. They’ll be ok.” Shiro took a deep, wistful breath. “It’s going to be ok.”

The cat returned the favor by booping his nose into his lips. Chuckling, Shiro buried his head into his cat’s neck. His kitten, his baby, his Pourry. His Keith and so much more, who was alive, back home, and happy and not alone; that, in turn, gave Shiro a happiness he didn’t even think was possible.

And it was all because of that moment of serendipity, when he unexpectedly found a stray cat after a night of drinking.

Oh, how life turned out sometimes.

 

**FIN**


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